The Beast

by Faye Kellerman

  When Gabe finished, he opened his eyes and nodded. “Pretty decent, no?”

  Yasmine didn’t answer. Instead, she turned to her mother. “Mommy . . . how can you possibly expect me to ever, ever give him up? How can I give up a boy who risked his own life to save mine? How can I give up a boy who makes music like that? And on top of that, he’s gorgeous. I’d have to be crazy!”

  Sohala was silent. Then she said, “He’ll break your heart.”

  When Gabe started to speak, Yasmine held up her hand. “And if he does break my heart, Mommy, I will survive. Look at all the horrible stuff that happened to me. I’m still here. I’m still functioning. I can take heartbreak—even bad heartbreak—without evaporating, okay.”

  “You don’t know,” Sohala said.

  “Then I’ll learn. But I can’t learn unless I experience it.” Yasmine took her mother’s hand. “I will never give him up. You have to accept that.” No one spoke. “The relationship might die, but you can’t kill it. At the very least you have to let us . . . talk! That’s the only way we can figure things out.”

  The studio was silent.

  “Hokay,” Sohala finally said. “You can talk to him while he’s here. It’s hokay. No hanky-panky.”

  “No hanky-panky is fine,” Yasmine said.

  “It is?” Gabe said.

  Yasmine smiled. “Stop it.”

  Sohala said, “Then after he leaves, you break up—”

  “No, Mommy, you have to let us work this out. Not you—Gabe and me. If it’s serious, he’ll convert. If he doesn’t covert, I’ll break up with him. He knows that.”

  “That was never a problem,” Gabe said. “I lived with the Deckers for two years. Believe me, I know the Jewish drill.”

  Sohala knew this was a battle she wasn’t going to win at this moment. She stood up. “We go home now.”

  Yasmine said, “You go home, Mommy. Gabe will take me home.” Her stare was fierce. “I’m going home with him. I’ll see you in a couple of hours.”

  Sohala exhaled. “Yasmini, I love you, but you cause me all my gray hairs. If I die early, it’s your fault.”

  “I will take the blame.” Yasmine got up. “I’ll walk you to the car and let Gabe finish up with the recording engineer.”

  She came back ten minutes later. Gabe said, “I made an appointment for Thursday.”

  “I’ll practice more. I know I can do better.”

  “You sang beautifully. You did everything beautifully. You were masterly. Thank you for those wonderful things you said about me.”

  “I meant every word.”

  “Did I tell you I love you today?” Gabe took her in his arms and kissed her with passion. “This is probably hanky-panky, but you made the promise, not me.”

  They kissed. Then they walked out of the studio, hand in hand.

  Gabe said, “You were . . . unbelievably terrific, Yasmini.”

  “I know.” She smiled. “You’re lucky to have me.”

  “I agree!” He kissed her hand. “Just please try to trust me, okay?”

  She kissed his hand back. “I swear I will never doubt you again, Gabriel.”

  “Of course you’ll doubt me again. And over the next fifty years, I know that there will be times when I doubt you. We love each other madly, but we’re artistic: egotistical, hotheaded, perfectionistic, compulsive, and complete and unadulterated neurotics. But like your mom says, it’s hokay. It’s just the nature of the beast.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  HER CHEEKS HELD a slight blush and her gait was a tad wobbly, but Sabrina Talbot walked tall and she was on time: a beautiful woman in a black dress with spiked heels and an open trench coat. Her blond hair framed a flawless face: the perfect nose, the sensual lips, the sky blue eyes. She held out a manicured hand, and Decker shook it, leading her into his office and offering her a seat. He closed the door. On the desktop was a pitcher of water and a glass. Decker sat down and picked up a mug.

  “I’m drinking coffee,” he said. “Can I get you a cup?”

  “No, thank you.”

  “Water?”

  “Nope.” Her hands were folded in her lap. She looked around. “This couldn’t be the ghastly interview room that Gracie was talking about.”

  “No, it’s my ghastly office. They got the interview room because there were two of them and my office is small.”

  “And here I thought I was getting the star treatment.”

  “If the police station had a green room, you’d be the first occupant.”

  Her smile had wattage. “I’m assuming my presence here has less to do with my charm and more to do with pumping me for information.” A pause. “I don’t know what I could tell you that I haven’t already told the handsome gentleman and the lady.”

  “Detective Oliver and Sergeant Dunn.” Decker picked up a pen and opened his notebook. “We appreciate your cooperation and don’t want to stress your good nature. I know you haven’t had contact with Mr. Penny in quite a while.”

  “Years.”

  Decker took a sip of coffee. “I know you’re close to his children, so I didn’t want to ask questions in front of them—”

  “You want to talk about our sex life—mine and Hobart’s.”

  “I understand he became creepy and animalistic toward the end.”

  “He became crazy toward the end.”

  “People manifest craziness in all sorts of ways.”

  “He didn’t get off on wearing a diaper and asking to be breast-fed. He went on the attack, and that was fitting with his personality. He was a very dominant man.”

  “He scratched you and claimed it was the tiger in him.”

  “I see you communicate with your detectives.”

  Decker jotted down a few notes. “That’s how you run an investigation.”

  “The wounds went from my shoulder to my neck. The marriage was over. Actually, when I found the pictures and he admitted going to the clubs, I knew there was nothing left.”

  “Did you ever go with him to the clubs?”

  “No. He traveled when he did those things, and he never asked me to join him.”

  “I’m sorry if this is personal, but I have to ask. Did he ever bring women into the house?”

  Her sigh was from long ago and from being long-suffering. “Yes. Would you like to know the details? I do remember them.”

  “Humiliating?”

  “Hobart enjoyed the humiliation. He enjoyed humiliating the world.”

  “How about pain? Was he into pain?”

  “Biting and scratching hurt, Lieutenant. He never asked about my welfare.”

  “Did he ever slap or hit or whip you?”

  Sabrina’s expression was contemplative. “He scratched, he bit, he grabbed and held on tight. No hitting that I can recall.”

  “Did he ever threaten you with a weapon if you didn’t do what he wanted?”

  “No, I always did what he wanted.”

  “Did he ever try to choke you?”

  “No. It might have progressed to that, but we split up.”

  Decker said, “What about the other women he brought home, Ms. Talbot? How did he treat them in your presence?”

  “He fucked them in my presence.”

  “Did he bite them?”

  “I’m sure he bit a few.”

  “Did he bite them hard enough to draw blood?”

  She was thinking about it. “He drew blood, yes.”

  “Anything beyond the biting? Did you ever see Hobart hit or beat up a woman?”

  “A few slaps on the butt.” She bit her lower lip. “He didn’t beat them up when I was around.”

  “Did you ever see him threaten a woman with a weapon?”

  “Not that I remember.”

  “So, you never saw your ex-husband cutting a woman with a knife . . . even superficially?”

  She didn’t answer for a long time. Then she said, “I presume you have a reason for asking these questions beyond prurient interest.” She leaned f
orward. “Did Hobart do something . . . bad?”

  “That’s why I wanted to speak with you alone. His children don’t have to hear this . . . yet. In your ex-husband’s apartment, we found body parts.”

  The woman went pale and covered her mouth. “Oh my God!” Her complexion had turned ashen. “Oh my God!”

  “Do you need to use the bathroom?”

  She shook her head no but poured herself a glass of water and bolted it down. “What kind of body parts?”

  “Human fingers. More than one, and belonging to more than one person.”

  “Oh dear Lord!” Again she covered her mouth. “I don’t know what to say.”

  “I have a reason for telling you this. I want to know if that awful image brings to mind anything in your past.”

  “Like what?”

  “You tell me.”

  “I’ve never seen Hobart do anything that would end up with body parts.”

  “So you’ve never witnessed Hobart murdering someone.”

  “Good God no!” She leaped to her feet. “Absolutely not!” She started pacing. “He bit . . . he scratched . . . he liked doing the ass. That’s not against the law though.”

  “That’s not against the law unless it was forced.”

  “It wasn’t forced. He paid the girls handsomely for it, which was amazing, because Hobart was a cheapskate.”

  “He paid for sex?”

  “Of course he paid for sex. You talk about weapons? With Hobart, money was the ultimate weapon. How else would he get hot, young girls to come home with him?”

  “Have a seat, Sabrina.” Reluctantly she sat back down. Decker said, “You told my detectives that you were attracted to his magnetic personality. Maybe others were as well.”

  “No, they were attracted to his wallet, which was quite an aphrodisiac.” She looked directly at Decker’s face. “Hobart loved to spend money on humiliation. When I started enjoying it back door, he didn’t like it anymore. So he sought other subjects to humiliate.”

  “Were they professionals? The girls he brought home?”

  “They were pretty girls who’d do kinky things for money—which, I suppose, is the definition of a whore. The upshot is he brought home young girls and did stuff with them. He liked me to watch because it made me feel small. Sometimes he’d tie me up and make me watch. If I closed my eyes, he’d douse my face with water so I’d look.” She sighed. “Are we done?”

  “If we hadn’t found body parts, Ms. Talbot, I wouldn’t be asking you these questions.” Decker said, “Were the girls ever alone with him or were you always there?”

  Sabrina looked down. “Sometimes Hobart took the girls to a second room in the back of the house. I was not invited to join them. As you might have guessed, I was more than happy to be excluded and left alone.”

  “And the girls left the next morning alive?”

  “Of course they were alive.”

  “So you saw the girls leave your house alive.”

  “I just assumed.”

  “Do you remember any of them leaving after a night with your husband?” When she didn’t answer, Decker said, “So you didn’t know what he did when he was alone with the women he picked up. Am I right about that?”

  Her eyes formed tears. “I tried to blank it from my mind.”

  “You didn’t know what he did and you really never knew what happened to them.”

  Her eyes watered. “He had a special room for them, and I was never invited inside the lair. After we divorced, I went into that room and I never saw anything bad.”

  “What did you see?”

  “Actually, it was completely sterile. The walls had been freshly painted, and there was brand-new carpeting. I thought he was being nice. After all, he was so generous with the settlement. I thought . . . actually, I don’t know what I thought. I was glad he was gone . . . out of my life.”

  Decker said, “So . . . the room had been repainted and there was new carpet.”

  Sabrina nodded while looking at her red fingernails. Her hands were unsteady as she wiped her eyes. “What does that mean, Lieutenant?”

  Decker said, “It means, Ms. Talbot, that you probably dodged a bullet.”

  THE PAPERWORK WAS drowning him: reviewing what the other detectives had been working on, court cases, call assignments, and vacation times to figure out. Normally all this could have been easily done during working hours. But with Penny taking up so much of his time, Decker had fallen behind. He’d be lucky to get out by eleven.

  Marge knocked on the open door, bringing in two cups of coffee. “You’re still here?”

  “Got another half hour of odds and ends to button up.” He smiled at her. “Is one of those mugs for me?”

  “Yes.”

  “Decaf?”

  “It could be, but that would require another pot.”

  “Who cares about sleep?” Decker took the cup. “I’m much obliged, thank you.”

  She sat down. Oliver walked in a moment later and took a chair. “So, how is my Lady Sabrina?”

  Decker took a long sip. “She called you handsome.”

  Oliver brightened. “That’s nice. Did you tell her my middle name is Mellors?”

  Marge was perplexed. “I don’t get it.”

  “That was very esoteric, Scott,” Decker said.

  Oliver said, “Mellors was the groundkeeper in Lady Chatterley’s Lover.”

  “Oh . . . okay.” She paused. “Wasn’t Mellors supposed to be young and virile?”

  He glared at her. “What did I do tonight to offend you?”

  Marge laughed. “You’re right. I’m sorry. And you are very handsome.”

  “Too little too late.”

  Decker said, “In answer to your original question, Sabrina Talbot was cooperative and forthcoming. This is the deal. Sabrina never went with Penny to his sex clubs. But she saw him bring women home. According to Sabrina, they weren’t professional hookers, but they were young party girls whom he paid for sex. He was into humiliation. He liked to screw them in front of his wife. Sabrina never remembers seeing Penny threatening the girls. Apparently, he didn’t hit or beat them. He just had sex with them. He liked it in the ass. That was about as kinky as it got.”

  Marge said, “Voyeurism, humiliation, and sodomy. On a kinky scale, I give it a six.”

  “Five,” Oliver said.

  “Whatever the rating, she doesn’t remember any disarticulated digits. But there’s more. Sometimes Penny was alone with the girls in a private room that was off-limits to his wife. During those times, Sabrina retreated to her bedroom and enjoyed the peace and quiet. So she has no idea what took place or what happened to the girls. When she woke up the next morning they were gone and Penny was at work doing whatever he did to make himself millions. After the two of them divorced, Sabrina went into the private room for the first time. It had been freshly painted and had new carpeting.”

  Oliver said, “The slaughterhouse was right under her nose. You think she might have heard or smelled something.”

  “The house is enormous,” Marge said. “And how often do you think she went by the servants’ wing unless he forced her?”

  Decker said, “When you live with someone like that, it’s easy to turn a blind eye. Back to business. I need you two to go back to Santa Barbara and take a look at Penny’s fuck room with luminol. Set up a time and date tomorrow.”

  “That’s not a problem, Lieutenant. I am happy to do that.”

  “Anything from the party girls on Lankershim?”

  Marge recapped the night’s conversation with Coco, including the gloved Shady Lady who didn’t work call-girl service anymore. When she was done, Decker said, “Could be a promising lead. And if she is short a digit and knows who did it, we could have another suspect in Hobart’s murder.”

  “A revenge murder from so long ago?” Marge asked.

  “It’s a dish best eaten cold,” Decker said. “So find Shady Lady and talk to her.”

  “If we’re going to
Santa Barbara tomorrow, when do we fit that in?” Oliver asked.

  Decker looked at his watch. “Girls should be coming out just about now. There’s no time like the present.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  IT WAS ALMOST eleven, but the lights were still on in the living room. Rina and Gabe at the dining room table, playing cards. They both looked up when Decker walked in. “Who’s winning?”

  “She’s killing me,” Gabe said.

  “Must be gin rummy. She’s ruthless.”

  Rina put her cards down, got up, and kissed her husband. “Paella is warming in the oven. Chicken and sausage.”

  “I love you.”

  “So take back what you said about me being ruthless.”

  “I’m referring to your card playing.”

  Rina handed him her cards. “Finish up for me.”

  Gabe put down the cards. “I’m done anyway. I know when I’ve been bested.” He stood up. “I had a long afternoon in the recording studio with Yasmine.”

  “Yeah, right.” Decker cleared his throat. “How’d that go?”

  “We didn’t finish. Her voice is a little raw. I told her to practice scales and we’ll try again on Thursday.”

  “I meant how did it go with Mom?”

  Gabe tried to stifle a smile but couldn’t quite manage it. “I guess all the drama over the weekend turned out okay. Sohala has given us permission to talk to each other.”

  “Good for you.” Decker smiled. “Anything specific that led to a change of heart?”

  “I’d like to say I dazzled her with my piano playing—I probably did dazzle her—but it was Yasmine who made it happen. She just put her foot down, and her mother caved. I’m sure she’ll monitor Yasmine’s phone and computer and all that stuff, but at least I can call her without having to sneak around. I never wanted that.”